


But will you be good to me?

by am_fae



Category: Ogniem i Mieczem | With Fire and Sword (1999), Ogniem i Mieczem | With Fire and Sword - Henryk Sienkiewicz, Trylogia | The Trilogy - Henryk Sienkiewicz
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F, Helena's stab wound has left the chat, Lesbian Character, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27890869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_fae/pseuds/am_fae
Summary: Only touch her with your hand and I will have you drawn on a stake with oxen!Well, Horpyna had never been a woman to let anyone tell her what she could and could not do. Sometimes she still felt the icy water of the Don on her skin in the morning, like the brush of dappled sunlight.
Relationships: Horpyna/Helena Kurcewiczówna
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	But will you be good to me?

**Author's Note:**

> For the Yuletide Trylogia prompt "sapphic" because it was high time someone wrote something featuring these two. I did my best I really did

Bohun’s laszka had taken fever and Horpyna silently cursed her luck as she prepared the girl a tisane.

_If she dies, I’ll nail you to the door! Only touch her with your hand, and I will have you drawn on a stake with oxen!_

Well, Horpyna had never been a woman to let anyone tell her what she could and could not do. Sometimes she still felt the icy water of the Don on her skin in the morning, like the brush of dappled sunlight. _Another time the executioner was going to cut my head off in Yampol,_ she’d told the ataman, grinning with all her teeth. _I didn't care for that_.

Ey, let Bohun threaten. But she would keep the girl alive, at least.

Helena’s skin was hot against her touch, flushed down to the neckline of her shift. She groaned softly at Horpyna’s footsteps.

“You look like you’re blushing, my girl,” Horpyna murmured, seating herself on the mattress. Helena’s dark eyes flickered, meeting hers a moment. Was it wishful thinking, or did those cheeks redden further? Horpyna slid a hand into the base of the princess’ dark braid, tipping her head up to bring her lips to the cup she held. “Just how you’ll blush for our ataman.”

That startled Helena from her daze. She choked a little on the liquid, and Horpyna felt that slender hand grip her wrist with surprising strength, forcing the cup away. She let her, laughing.

“I don’t want him. How many…?” She trailed off as Horpyna’s hand found its way to the end of her short braid, un-twining the thick strands so black hair fell through her fingers like silk, warm where it had lain close to the girl’s fevered body. “What are…?”

Horpyna laughed again, this time shorter, bitterer. “Replaiting you, princess.” Helena’s shoulders dropped, two white birds. Horpyna tugged at a lock of hair wound about her fingers and Helena turned her face away, but not before she caught her breath, hot and trembling in the air between them.

Horpyna’s fingertips itched as she looked at her, at the dark hair fanning across the pillow, damp with sweat.

Oh, Bohun’s Cossacks were right when they said it. That’s a girl of blood and milk. _A jewel._

“And you don’t even want him,” she said. “What a waste, ey, my girl?”

Helena’s black lashes flickered. Her eyes had gone dazed again, confused. Horpyna fit her callused hand to the girl’s flushed cheek and dared to imagine it was flushed for _her_. Impossibly, Helena leaned her head into her palm. Horpyna wondered which man she thought was there.

It was too tempting. If her village had driven her out, if she had learned the cost of making enemies, she had also learned power, and freedom. It had begun with the girls, their flower lips, their sturdy walk to carry water, their darting eyes and their pale sweet limbs in the swirling river come Kupala. All this before her mother had found her in bed with a woman.

“I wonder what it would take for you to want him,” Horpyna said, the heat of Helena’s cheek sending a thrill through her. Her other hand slipped down Helena’s side, pushing aside covers the feverish girl had tried to kick away. “Wanting isn’t so hard as you make it. I could show you. And you surely don’t want _me_ , ey?”

“Witch,” Helena said. But her warm body curved into the touch, shivering where Horpyna had pushed the covers away. She hadn’t agreed; that surprised Horpyna distantly. “How have you…?” She shook her head, mussing her hair further. “What have you done to me? By the Blessed Virgin—”

Horpyna’s eyes flashed and she clapped a hand over the princess’ mouth. “Don’t call on anything you might regret, unless you don’t want me to show you.” She thought the girl whimpered against her palm; that pleased her. She had done nothing to her in the way of any magic—nothing yet—but it was easier to let her think that, with the way she might think herself ruined, after.

Helena nodded. The witch thought she was either truly out of her mind with fever or wildly brave. For a glowing, terrible moment she understood why Bohun loved her.

The hand at Helena’s side glided over the jut and curve of her hip, hiking up the hem of the shift. Horpyna moaned as she reached the girl’s smooth thigh and pressed closer, soft curls giving way to silky heat under her touch. Helena started—cried out against her hand and closed her legs. But Horpyna would not have let her, even if she had wanted to stop. They were too far along now: she couldn’t draw herself away. Moving down the bed, she drew the girl’s quivering thighs widely apart, finally getting a good look at her. Horpyna would be the first to touch this jewel, to taste her; she knew it instinctively.

Helena made a low, desperate noise as the cool air brushed over her center. She was wet already, glistening and beautiful.

“My girl,” Horpyna murmured, trailing her fingertips through the slick. Her mind turned in on itself, on the princess’ question. Had weeks of Horpyna’s lurid insinuations done this? Her rough-fingered care? By some miracle, had Horpyna herself? Or did she imagine someone else now?

“Don’t—” Helena fought for words. “Don’t make me beg you—”

_Not so proud and thankless for me, are you?_ That was an idea: but Horpyna hungered too much for her to try it. She slipped the first finger into her soft, wet heat slowly, but firmly enough to make the girl gasp and quake. With her hand still in her, thumb stroking the red flesh, Horpyna straddled her thigh in a rustle of skirts. The press of the girl’s skin and her moan as Horpyna’s weight pinned her were enough to satisfy the ache between her own legs, for now.

Helena’s lips were parted in an O, and Horpyna bent over her to kiss them. Helena tasted of the herbs and honey of the tisane, and she chased the sweetness into her mouth. If she could have hollowed Helena out, swallowed her whole, she would have done it in that moment.

The girl moaned wantonly. Horpyna felt her struggling to spread her legs further, and breaking the kiss, kissed the corner of her poppy-red and swollen mouth, stroking the silky heat inside her: gently, so each touch made her quiver. “You want more now, don’t you, my girl?” Bitterness flickered in her, not loyalty. “The ataman—”

Helena looked up with deep black eyes, midnight hair strewn shining across the pillow. Her nipples showed darkly beneath the light linen where her breath came taut and ragged. She shuddered. “Horpyna—you feel—it feels so good. Don’t… don’t speak of him. I’m with you right now. _Only_ you. Please—”

The girl pressed tightly around her second finger, but she had well earned it. Horpyna thought with a flash of fear that she might live forever with the way the girl said her name still ringing in her ears, like a man on the battlefield after a great explosion drowns out all else.

Helena moaned at the stretch and Horpyna let herself rock against her, bending to kiss her again, her free hand pushing the shift’s neckline down the girl’s shoulders to free her breasts. Helena shocked her by reaching up and drawing her close, slim hand tangling in Horpyna’s windswept hair.

Her lips were so sweet, her body thrumming with life, while the haze in her eyes spoke more to Horpyna’s ministrations than fever. _She goes to the head like wine_ , the witch thought. ~~~~

A cry escaped Helena’s lips as Horpyna drew a rosy nipple into her mouth and felt her sob, jolting at the slight catch of teeth. Desire leapt between them like a flame. _God’s teeth, but she feels good._ The princess’ cunt was slick and swollen, pressing back against her strokes as Horpyna’s coarse and clever fingers pressed deeper inside her, working in and out so Helena clung to her shoulders and panted in time with her body’s wet, desperate noises.

_I’m planting a seed in you_ , Horpyna thought, imbuing the words with power. _You’ll remember me, laszka, with your boys, and you won’t be able to tear it out. You’ll lie abed and try to reach it…_

Helena’s hips shuddered against her hand and she knew the girl must be drawing close, up. Her wide gaze could only be described as beautiful. Horpyna groaned, trailing kisses to her throat, sucking red marks into that fine skin.

“Do you feel it, my girl?” She kissed her again, tasting honey. “What I’m giving you?”

“Yes,” Helena all but wept. The word trailed off into a gasp, strained and catching. She could still feel the girl’s body fighting to draw her closer, trying to chase her touch, even as she trembled with it. Oh, but Horpyna could get used to this…

Helena’s gasps turned ragged, full. She clutched with feeble desperation at Horpyna’s shoulders, her tangled hair, feverish body losing strength as the pleasure and strain overtook her. Golden—she was golden like that, sweet and weak. Horpyna drove her curled fingers deep inside and held them there, feeling rather than hearing Helena cry out as she came, shuddering around her.

The girl moaned, slack-limbed and twitching, as Horpyna drew her hand away. She watched blindly, beautiful face flushed crimson, as Horpyna licked the salt taste of her from her fingers, before trying to turn her blushing face away towards the pillow. Horpyna stopped her with a hand, tilting her head back to face her. Wonder of wonders, the black eyes looked at her, dark as a moonless night.

“There,” Horpyna said, breathless. Helena could surely feel her own wetness against her thigh. How would the princess’ kiss-reddened mouth feel, pinned there? She grinned down at the trembling girl, heart still racing, her own ache harder and harder to ignore. “Not tricky at all.”

“Thank you.” It took a long moment for the uneven, whispered words to reach her, so incomprehensible were they. How had the laszka said them? But when Helena looked at her again there was nothing but shaken sincerity in those beautiful, tear-filled eyes.

“Ey, girl,” Horpyna started, pushing a lock of black hair behind Helena’s ear. _You opened for me like a flower. Terrible, beautiful, being. Bohun is right to fear you_. She smiled instead. “I have so much more to show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> (quotes from Curtin's translation)


End file.
